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L. M.

Sickness healed, and sorrow removed.

I Will extol thee, Lord, on high,

At thy command diseases fly:

Who but a God can speak and save

From the dark borders of the grave?

Sing to the Lord, ye saints of his,

And tell how large his goodness is;

Let all your powers rejoice and bless

While you record his holiness.

His anger but a moment stays;

His love is life and length of days;

Though grief and tears the night employ,

The morning star restores the joy.

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